


Making Up Leeway

by Neriad13



Series: Delta's Heart Saga [8]
Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Adoption, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Disabled Character, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Historical References, Medical Trauma, Past Character Death, Past Torture, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Recovery, Self-Esteem Issues, non-bomb-centered psychiatry, transcribed audio logs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neriad13/pseuds/Neriad13
Summary: Mysterious case files of a bizarre patient, finally unsealed fifty years later.Inside every former big daddy, there’s a stubborn dad with terrible coping mechanisms and no understanding of 60s slang, who is deeply upset by the moon landing.
Series: Delta's Heart Saga [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000584
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Session 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic makes reference to the events of Constant Bearing, Decreasing Range, Delta’s Heart and Postscript. For the best experience, read them first.
> 
> On with the show!

**Transcript Property of Manhattan Psychiatric Center**   
**Session Date: July 9, 1970 10:35 AM**   
**Recording by Dr. C. Tompkins**   
**Names withheld for privacy.**

CT: Welcome, welcome! Do come in, make yourself comfortable. Ah...I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized. Let me just...

[scraping sounds]

CT: There we go. Is that big enough? Should I…? Oh, you’ve got it. Right on. _Ahem_. So...I'm Dr. Tompkins. Friends call me Charlie. If you like-

DK: I’d prefer not to, thanks.

CT: Right. Whatever makes you comfortable. We’re all about...comfort, here. Anyway, Mr. K_, right? Do you mind if I get some medical history first? I’ve got your record here, but...well, it’s like swiss cheese, if I’m putting it nicely. 

DK: Oh, I was out of the country for a couple decades. I can’t imagine that would help.

CT: Ah. I’d say not. Current medications?

DK: Uh...hang on. I think I’m down to three mg of Azathioprine. Five mg Prednisone. Propranolol. That one’s...40 mg. Twice a day. I’ve got Fentanyl if I need it, but I never need it bad enough to justify the dizziness.

CT: Know the dosage?

DK: I forget.

CT: That’s okay.

DK: I usually just pop an aspirin instead. I probably shouldn’t, but…

CT: 300 mg?

DK: Yes.

[humming]

CT: There we go. Uh...major surgeries?

DK: Oh, that I do have. Here. We’re going to be here for hours otherwise. 

CT: Oh, good. Let me skim through this real fast.

[recording shuts off]

CT: Fishing accident, huh?

DK: It was a really big bass.

CT: I...see. 

[pause]

CT: How about family members?

DK: A daughter. We finally got the adoption finalized last year. 

CT: Congratulations!

DK: Thanks. 

CT: How old?

DK: Eighteen.

CT: Got it. Spouse? No? Parents? Siblings? Just you and her, then?

DK: That’s right.

CT: Uhm-hm.

[pause]

CT: So...now that we’ve got that out of the way, ah, what is it that you hope to achieve in therapy?

DK: I...well...hmm.

[pause]

DK: I’m sorry, I...don’t really have any idea what I’m doing here. It was my daughter who put me up to it, see. She's heading off to LIU in the fall and was...well, _overly_ concerned. About leaving me by my lonesome. It’s not _that_ far and she’ll definitely be able to stop by on weekends, if she wants, but still...it’s been a while since I’ve lived alone. 

[pause]

DK: But I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again just fine, thank you very much, was what I told her. That was how it _should_ have ended. Oh, but _then_ she had to mention it in front of T_ and the next thing I know I’m paid up for six sessions and the both of them are carting me out the door without so much as a howdy-do.

[sighs]

DK: So here I am. I’m sorry again, but...I don’t think there’s anything you can do for me here.

CT: And why's that?

DK: Why's what?

CT: Why don’t you think I’d be able to do anything for you?

[pause]

DK: I don’t mean any offense by it. Really. I’m sure you’re a fine doctor and all, but...it's not like I can let you in on what happened, exactly. 

[pause]

DK: Er...on the...fishing trip. And even if I could, it's not like you or well, _anyone_ would believe me. 

[scoffs]  
CT: You think so? C’mon, try me. I’ve seen some wild cases in my day. I guarantee you - ya can’t shock me.

DK: Hmm.

DK: The last therapist I saw tried to kill me.

[pause]

CT: Okay. 

CT: Emotionally or...?

DK: Oh no, it was bombs.

CT: What… _how_...? Why on _earth_...

[incoherent sputtering]

DK: See? And that was a tamer attempt on her part, honestly. There were...a lot of them. She didn’t give up easy. 

DK: Got me once, too, if you ah...wanted to hear...that bit. Feel like checking me in upstairs now? Or should I just...go? I did have some shopping to do, if you don’t-

CT: First off, that's bad therapeutic practice.

DK: What, killing me?

[clears throat]

CT: Second...suppose I _do_ believe you.

[pause]

CT: Suppose that while you are in this room, everything you say is taken as fact, if you believe it to be such. I won’t judge.

[pause]

CT: Our sessions will be kept absolutely confidential, of course. What’s said in here stays in here. Your records will be sealed and if need be-

[recording cuts off]

CT: Would that be...acceptable?

[pause]

DK: Perhaps.

CT: And if you’re not into it by the end of six sessions, hey, feel free to never darken my door again. Deal?

[pause]

DK: But...I still don’t know where to start. O-Or...how to explain. It’s been so long since I even...

CT: Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to spill your guts to me on the first go. We’re getting comfortable, remember? Why don't we start with this T_? You implied that he-

DK: She.

CT: ...that she paid for therapy, right? And you didn’t seem pleased about it.

[sighs]

DK: It’s just...T_ pays for everything. The apartment, the groceries, my surgeries, the physical therapy, the speech therapy, E_’s tuition, every single useless, silly thing that brings us a little happiness. If I so much as breathe a word about _something_ , anything at all, I open the door the next day and there it is.

CT: E_ is your daughter?

DK: That’s right. You know what it was the other day? A European Fan Palm. Where the hell am I supposed to put a European Fan Palm? It’s living in the bathtub now but god knows that’s not sustainable.

CT: Oh. That’s...huh.

[pause]

DK: I _should_ be grateful. I _want_ to be grateful. We’d...well, we’d be in a lot worse straits if it wasn’t for her. But it’s not like I can work, right? 

CT: As a...oh, you were a Seabee. Had an uncle in there during the war.

DK: An engineer. Submersibles. And I’ve been a handyman before. And an electrician and a welder...I like working with my hands. If you let me take it apart, I can probably figure out how it works.

DK: I just...I feel so _useless_ now. Like all I can do is _wait_ for...I don’t even know what.

CT: Sounds like you’re used to taking care of yourself. 

DK: Yeah.

CT: It must’ve been hard, switching over to being cared for by others.

DK: ...yeah.

CT: There’s no shame in it.

[pause]

DK: I’m not angry at T_ for helping. She’s just frustrating, sometimes. Her way is the only way. I think...she feels responsible for what happened. On the...fishing trip. Oh, it’s not _all_ her fault. There’s a carousel of blame to go around. But…

DK: She _was_ the one steering the ship. I don’t suppose I can entirely forgive her for that. And...she knows that. So she bends over backwards trying to make it right, whatever way she can. My daughter and I - we’re not the only survivors. She’s got a trust fund for every single one of them she can find. I’m sure we’re not the only ones with a European Fan Palm in our bathtub. 

CT: Other survivors, you say? Do you keep in touch?

DK: Well...I tried writing one of them, once.

CT: And?

DK: He never wrote back.

CT: That’s too bad. 

DK: I get it, though. I’m not sure if I’d want to talk to me, if things were the other way around.

CT: Why not?

[pause]

DK: The whole thing’s best forgotten. I don’t like being reminded of it. I focus on other things. If I got a letter from a person who’d been through something similar to me, I’d have a hard time reading it.

CT: But you haven’t forgotten, have you?

DK: No.

[pause]

CT: How do you feel about doing some homework?

[pause]

CT: Write him again. Just one more time. Okay?

DK: Maybe.

CT: Ah, what’s next...how about your daughter? LIU, huh? You must be proud.

DK: She’s so smart. Even if she did need to spend a year playing catch-up. 

CT: Why the catch-up?

DK: She...grew up isolated. Very isolated. There was so much she needed to learn about society, about the world, before she could be comfortable living in it.

CT: But...weren’t you the one who raised her?

DK: Not really. At least, not for very long. We were...hmm… _assigned_ to one another when she was young. Like a babysitter. But… _more_. I can’t remember how long, exactly, but it couldn’t have lasted more than a year.

CT: It was...some sort of foster parenting program?

[pause]

DK: You could say that. Except...well, it was compulsory, on my part. Uh. On...her part too. Am I making any kind of sense?

CT: This happened when you were out of the country, right? Under a foreign government? So...they pressed you into a compulsory foster parenting program in which care of E_ was assigned to you. Am I on the right track?

DK: Hey, that’s not bad. I should use that line myself sometime.

CT: Thank you, thank you. I try to make myself useful. 

DK: Anyway...her mother ended up in the _bas_...uh, the jailhouse and the...the _government_ handed her over to me while she was away. Again, it didn’t last long. We only reconnected three years ago. It’s been in paper for less than half that time. 

CT: Huh. But you do seem to care for her a great deal, despite not having had a choice in taking care of her.

DK: It was _her_ choice to find me again. She…

DK: Well, she chose me over her mother. A real piece of work, that one. 

CT: She still in the picture?

DK: Dead.

CT: Ah.

DK: She’s the only family I have left.

[pause]

CT: Do you feel like she’s leaving you behind to go to college?

DK: What? No! I’m _so_ happy for her. I’m so _glad_ she’s moving on with her life and finding places to fit in and...it was such a hard road for her. She’s come so far. 

CT: But what does home life look like for _you_ once she’s moved out?

[long pause]

CT: Why don’t you think about that for the next session? And don’t forget about your homework!

DK: Right. Uh...see you next week, then.

[recording shuts off]

**Session Notes:**

The patient is well-dressed, clean and articulate, despite his other eccentricities. Among them, the wearing of leather gloves indoors, in July. The medical record he presented showed no sign of injury to his hands that might justify it. 

I am ambivalent about encouraging his delusions. Most worrisome is the claim that he has _died_ before. A possible sufferer of Cotard’s Syndrome? This bears further investigation. 

However, I found my actions necessary to establish trust in the doctor-patient relationship. I do not believe that he could have been willingly retained as a patient otherwise. He appears to be no danger to himself or others and I see no reason at present to encourage inpatient therapy.


	2. Session 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: contains the worst impression of Tenenbaum ever. And very important plant-boundary negotiations.

**Transcript Property of Manhattan Psychiatric Center**   
**Session Date: July 16, 1970 10:32 AM**   
**Recording by Dr. C. Tompkins**   
**Names withheld for privacy.**

CT: Welcome back! C’mon in, the water’s warm-

DK: Could you maybe use a different metaphor?

CT: Uh...well...hi. How’ve you been?

DK: Fine.

CT: That’s...good.

[pause]

CT: Did you do your homework?

DK: My what?

CT: That other survivor. You were going to write him.

DK: Oh...no. Sorry. I forgot.

CT: That’s okay. Next time, right?

DK: Sure.

CT: What else did I have...ah, the fern.

DK: Fern?

CT: Is it still in the bathtub?

DK: Oh, the palm. No, it’s out.

CT: That’s goo-

DK: It’s crammed up on top of the toilet now. You have to brace yourself against it when you flush.

DK: So it doesn’t...uh...fall.

[pause]

CT: Mr. K_, have you _talked_ to T_ about this?

DK: Well…

CT: Hey, I know it sounds silly, but these ‘gifts’ of hers are _plainly_ affecting your life. Wouldn’t things be better between you if she knew that?

DK: She’s hard to talk to.

CT: How so?

DK: Hmm...it’s...well, it’s more who she reminds me of, I think. _Them_. She’s got the same mannerisms. The way she kind of steamrolls-

CT: Them?

[pause]

DK: The...government officials who paired me with my daughter. They had a habit of talking over people. Of discussing you as if you weren’t there. And if you did talk back, it was like they couldn’t hear you. So it was better if you just stayed quiet. She starts going and...I clam up. It’s not logical, _I know_ , but I can’t seem to shake the urge.

CT: Do you want to try practicing on me? Here, I’ll be T_. ‘Good morning, Mr. K_, I’-

DK: You’ve got the accent wrong already.

CT: Oh?

DK: And she’d say ‘guten morgen’. 

DK: She does that. Peppers her conversations with bits of German. Habit, I suppose? Or stubbornness. She was… _is_ pretty stubborn. I think she’s been in the States for over a decade now.

DK: But who am I to talk about hanging onto your accent decades after turning your back on your native land?

CT: Hmm.

[clears throat]

CT: ‘Guten morgen, Herr K_. I haf noticed you admiring thiz plant and thought you might like to put it in your abode.’

[laughs]

DK: That’s awful.

CT: C’mon, we can’t all be Oscar winners. ‘Iz it not beautiful? And tall? It vill brighten your living space and bring you much delicious oxygen.’

DK: Look...T_…

CT: ‘Look how big the leaves grow! It vill be a jungle in here, soon enough. Would you not like to live in a jungle?’

DK: T_...I don’t have the space to live in a jungle.

CT: ‘Vat?! Iz this true?’

DK: I...appreciate you. And everything you do. But, please, if you’re going to get me a gift, I’d appreciate you asking me first even more. I don’t have room for all of them.

CT: ‘Oh, Herr K_, I had no idea.’

DK: It’s just...I feel like you’re trying to buy your way into my good graces. And I don’t like it. I’m going to feel about you, how I feel about you, alright? Can’t you accept that for what it is?

[pause]

CT: And there you go. All you have to do is say that to _her_.

DK: I don’t know about the last bit, though. 

CT: Why not?

DK: It’s...well, I don’t want to hurt her.

CT: Would your relationship continue to suffer if it went unsaid?

DK: Probably.

CT: Then she _probably_ needs to hear it. Mark me, it’s going to be a hard conversation. But sometimes we need hard conversations to get better. Like re-breaking a bone to set it properly, right?

DK: Mmm.

CT: So...I was curious about your navy days.

DK: You want to know if I ever ran into your uncle?

CT: Oh, no. Just wondering how it was. What happened while you were over there.

DK: I was on the USS Heywood. Pacific Theater, mostly. 

CT: Ah. Fascinating. That must’ve been an experience.

DK: Isn’t everything?

[laughs]

CT: I _did_ walk into that one. 

CT: So...what I was _really_ wondering is if you ever...hmm...ever...have vivid recollections or _dreams_ about things that happened during the war.

DK: You think I’m shell-shocked. 

CT: It’s very common and nothing to be ashamed of! Plenty of soldiers have sought out treatment and-

DK: I’m not. Not...because of the war.

[sighs]

DK: Look, I know it’s strange to say, but...some of the best years of my life were during the war. I met my best friend in the navy. I met my...hmm, _business partner_ when we were stationed in Iceland. 

DK: Well...I say ‘business partner’ but really...he was my father. See, when I met him, he’d just lost a son to a German mine and me, I’d never had a father to begin with, so...we adopted each other. 

CT: Sounds like a lovely relationship.

DK: It was.

CT: What hap-

DK: Dead.

CT: I’m sorry for your loss. Do you want to talk about it?

DK: No.

CT: That’s fine. What about this best friend?

DK: Dead.

CT: Was it during-

DK: After. On the fishing trip. I’d...rather not talk about him either.

CT: It’s okay. Do you need a glass of water?

DK: I...would like that.

CT: I’ll be right back.

[recording shuts off]

CT: So...is your daughter packing for college yet?

DK: Is she ever! Oh, she’s stressing over _everything_. Do you know how long she’s been staring at the class catalog? And writing and rewriting lists of what to pack? Weeks! It stresses _me_ out, just watching her.

DK: And she still has no idea what she wants to major in. Can you imagine? Just becoming a part of the world and immediately being expected to know what you want to do in it. When I was her age, at least I’d been around enough to get an idea. But, she can afford to spend some time exploring, so why not? I don’t see a reason to rush it. 

CT: Good on her.

DK: I made her dinner the other night. I think she liked it. She settled down for a bit while she was eating it, at least.

CT: Ooh, what’d you have?

DK: Kjötsúpa. It’s an Icelandic dish. Mutton soup. I had a hard time finding the mutton, at first, but I got it eventually. What is it about Americans and their refusal to eat sheep? I’ve never understood it. Do you know how much cheaper it is to raise a lamb as opposed to a steer? Why, if _some people_ got their tastebuds out of their asses, then-

CT: Could we back it up a minute? Mr. K_, did you… _live_ in Iceland?

DK: Ten years. I’d just become a citizen when...I went on the fishing trip. Wonder if anyone who remembers me is still around.

CT: Why’d you leave?

DK: It wasn’t as though I planned it. 

CT: It was...just supposed to be a fishing trip?

[pause]

DK: More or less.

CT: Okay.

DK: Things happened and...well, I couldn’t make it back.

CT: Do you ever think about going back, y’know, now?

DK: Hm. I don’t...know. I’ve written the zoning department about what’s become of my business partner’s and my property but...the workshop’s been turned into a garage. The house was bulldozed three years ago to make way for a tourist resort. I don’t think there’s anything left for me over there. 

CT: That’s too bad. So, just to clear it up a little for me...you spent ten years in Iceland, which was then followed by… _the fishing trip_ and then...what?

DK: Fourteen years and counting away. It feels like longer sometimes.

CT: Uh…

DK: But other times it’s like I’ve blinked and woken up in a different world. Granted, I wasn’t… _there_ for a lot of it.

CT: There?

DK: I told you last week, remember? I was dead.

[pause]

DK: E_ found me and brought me back to life.

[pause]

DK: Look, I know exactly how crazy it sounds, but...

CT: Mr. K_, that doesn’t make sense.

DK: Hey, I’m with you there.

CT: You’re sitting right here. Breathing. Talking to me. People don’t come back from the dead. Now, coma patients, maybe-

DK: You said you weren’t going to judge.

[sighs]

CT: I did. 

[pause]

DK: Shall I bring in the x-rays next week? The bullet’s still there, if you wanted to see.

[pause]

DK: I’m not lying.

CT: No. No...don’t worry about it. I...believe you. There.

DK: You think I’ve gone off the deep end.

CT: I don’t. Promise.

[pause]

CT: There’s a little time left before the session ends. Was...there anything _you_ wanted to talk about?

DK: I...don’t think so. See you next week?

CT: Wait, I’ve thought of something. You said something about ‘never having had a father to begin with?’

DK: Right. 

DK: My parents died when I was little. Spanish flu. My aunt raised me.

CT: And she…?

DK: Is dead.

CT: Ah.

CT: Would you say you had a secure attachment with her?

DK: Beg pardon?

CT: A good relationship.

DK: Look, I’d rather not get into this with five minutes on the clock.

CT: Sure. That’s fine. Well, don’t forget to sign out with the nurse and-

[door creaks]

CT: ...do your homework.

[recording shuts off]

**Session Notes:**

The patient is adamant in his death delusion. More worrisome is the fact that he believes his daughter responsible for his restoration to life. From his descriptions, they appear to have a decent parent-child relationship, but it’s impossible to say for sure without hearing from Miss K_ herself. 

However, he does have a definite awareness of how strange his claims sound and a certain reluctance to elaborate on them. He is also quite willing to work on issues more in tune with the realm of possibility. It’s not impossible that he might one day listen to reason on the matter of his more fanciful claims as well. 

Shell shock does not seem to be the catalyst of his delusions. This is a personal reminder to bring up parental abandonment issues in the next session.


	3. Session 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girrrls are fightingggggg.

**Transcript Property of Manhattan Psychiatric Center**  
**Session Date: July 23, 1970 10:30 AM**  
**Recording by Dr. C. Tompkins**  
**Names withheld for privacy.**

CT: Glad to see you again, Mr. K_! How’ve things been?

DK: Oh, the usual. Nothing new here.

CT: Right. Now...today I think-

[plastic rustling]

DK: I brought them for you. Here, have a look.

CT: What is...oh my _god_. 

DK: See? 

CT: That’s...certainly something you’ve got...there. _Ahem_. 

DK: Wanna touch the bump on my head where the bone didn’t quite fuse right?

CT: What? No! I’m...fine, thank you.

DK: Well, it’s your loss. 

CT: _When_ did this happen?

DK: Mmm...little over ten years ago now.

CT: So, on the…fishing trip.

DK: Fish sure are evolving fast these days, aren’t they? You never know when one of them’s gonna pull a Luger. 

CT: Mr. K_, _please_. If we are going to maintain an open, honest dialogue in this office, I’m...well...I’m going to need you to stop joking about fish with firearms.

DK: Oh, fine. Spoilsport.

DK: It was the bad therapist. E_’s mother. She didn’t appreciate my guardianship in her absence. 

CT: _What?_

DK: I just _said-_

CT: I heard you. It’s just...your _daughter’s mother_ tried to _kill you_?

DK: _Did_ kill me. C’mon, I’ve told you that too.

[pause]

CT: ...right.

CT: How does _she_ feel about that?

DK: Who, E_? Oh, pretty badly. She did go to the trouble of resurrecting me, after all.

[pause]

DK: You’re not saying much today.

CT: Could we...set this topic aside? Just for now? And...here. You should take these back.

[plastic rustling]

CT: There. Now, what I wanted to discuss today was your childhood.

DK: Great.

CT: How was it? Good? Bad? Middling?

DK: It happened.

CT: That doesn’t sound confident.

[pause]

DK: Look, you’re younger, right? Somewhere in your thirties, I’d wager? 

CT: I don’t see what this has to do with-

DK: The Crash of ‘29 wasn’t the backdrop to your childhood. 

[pause]

DK: I was seven years old. My aunt was a single woman. You do the math.

DK: Of course it was hard. She was always working. And we had a string of these awful boarders that I was constantly cleaning up after. 

DK: That was how it was. But she did her best. _Better_ than her best. Why...I...I had classmates who were worse off than me by a mile. Ones who had to drop out to take care of their younger siblings or move away when their families had to pack up to follow the work. 

DK: She kept the house. I stayed in school. We made it through.

[pause]

CT: But...was it a _good_ relationship? With your aunt?

DK: She was a saint.

CT: That isn’t answering the question.

[pause]

DK: I...I think she resented me.

DK: For...being there. For making her life into something she didn’t want. 

CT: But she was the one who chose to take you in, didn’t she?

DK: Right. 

CT: How could she be resentful of something that she herself chose to do?

DK: It wasn’t a choice for her. I...don’t _think_ she thought of it that way. It was something that she _had_ to do. I was family and she couldn’t _not_ take me in. 

DK: She was loyal like that. And...she’d give you the clothes off her back, even if it left her out in the cold. 

DK: She had a lot of friends. 

DK: But she never seemed happy.

CT: And...this came out in how she treated you?

[pause]

DK: I had classmates whose fathers beat them with sticks. 

CT: That’s awful.

DK: So were the bruises. And...the people who didn’t care.

CT: But what does this have to do with _her_?

[sighs]

DK: _Hrmmm_...well...what…

DK: What I’m… _trying_ to say is...she never laid a hand on me. It was _fine_. My childhood was _fine_. Normal. Average. There. I’ve answered your question. Happy?

CT: ‘Normal’ doesn’t mean ‘right’.

[pause]

CT: And ‘She was doing her best’ and ‘She didn’t do enough’ aren’t mutually exclusive statements. Sometimes our best isn’t enough. Sometimes a person simply _can’t_ give us what we need, no matter how much they try. 

[pause]

CT: It’s okay to have… _complex feelings_ about it. Okay to sit with them, marinate in them for a bit...and then move on with greater understanding. Does that make some kind of sense to you?

DK: A little. 

CT: Good. Why don’t I get some water? Be back in a jiffy.

[recording shuts off]

DK: I had a friend like that.

CT: Like what?

DK: Who tried his best. 

CT: Okay…?

DK: But hurt me anyway.

CT: Ah.

DK: I suppose I was that kind of friend to him too. It couldn’t work out.

CT: That’s too bad.

DK: It was...a war. 

CT: The War?

DK: No. A different one. One that hasn’t made it into the history books. 

CT: Then what-

DK: We were on opposite sides. Not willingly. Had things been a fraction of a decimal different, I would’ve been right there alongside him. Killing me.

CT: Mr. K_…

DK: I’m not contradicting myself. E_’s mother pulled the trigger but it was him who gave her the gun. 

CT: Could we please stay on topic?

DK: Could you please just listen to me? I’m so tired of having to prove myself to you. To _everyone_. 

DK: I’d _like_ to have an outlet to discuss my problems. E_ was right about that. I’ve conceded the point. But I can’t do that if you keep throwing shade on every other word I say. It happened, alright? Get over it and _help me_. 

[wood being struck]

DK: I’m leaving. 

CT: Mr. K_-

DK: I _will_ be back next week. That’s your last chance, T_ be damned. Here.

[plastic sliding]

DK: Take those x-rays to your goddamn… _specialists_ or whoever it is you’ve got in your address book and figure it out. Good _day_.

CT: Mr. K_, if you would just wa-

[door slams]

[door creaks]

[footsteps fading into the distance]

[the recording is silent for some time, before the footsteps return]

[a man sighs]

[recording shuts off]

**Session Notes:**

The patient fled the building in an extremely agitated state. From my own observations on the x-rays he left, he has plainly suffered a traumatic brain injury of a life threatening nature. It is the most probable cause of his persistent delusions. I am considering the prescription of an antipsychotic, if persuasion towards taking it is possible. Will follow up on getting a second opinion on the x-rays.

**Further Notes:**

I followed up and met Dr. M_ of the Neurology Department for lunch and a casual examination of the x-rays provided. He noted that the bullet is lodged deep within the midbrain, close enough to the pons that the force of the explosion that propelled it should have destroyed it. 

Consequently, the patient who experienced it should have no breathing function, sensory perception or the ability to swallow. 

He expressed interest in whether the patient was living or dead. I declined to comment. 

I don’t know what to think.

People don’t come back from the dead. This is an inarguable statement of fact. So too is the fact that the brain is an organ of immense complexity that medicine has so far barely scratched the surface of. A man has lived after an iron rod has gone clear through his skull. Brains have survived stabbings, shootings, injury that common sense assumes should not be possible. It is not outside the realm of possibility that a patient might experience a brain injury so traumatic that it brings about a coma from which he is only able to stir ten years later. 

But insofar as we know, neither Phineas Gage’s injury, nor those of the more recent variety, struck the pons. 

I am at odds with the ethics of the situation. 

The patient’s insistence that he suffered death and resurrection _cannot_ be anything but a delusion. It is against the tenets of ethical psychiatry, as well as my own morals, to encourage such a delusion. 

And yet, it was not this delusion that the patient came to our office seeking treatment for. The problems he speaks of are of a more mundane variety; difficulties with communication, self-esteem, coping with loneliness after his child leaves the nest. These things appear to have far more of an impact on his life than his insistence that he was raised from the dead. 

I must spend more time considering my next course of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My headcanon is that his brain reformed itself around the bullet. Like a tree growing through a fence.


	4. Session 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress is made.

**Transcript Property of Manhattan Psychiatric Center**   
**Session Date: July 30, 1970 10:29 AM**   
**Recording by Dr. C. Tompkins**   
**Names withheld for privacy.**

[door creaks]

DK: Good morning, Dr. Tompkins. How’re ya holding up?

[wood being struck]

DK: Ow.

CT: Do you need me to pull that back a tad?

DK: No, no, I’ve got it.

CT: It’s no trouble.

[furniture scraping]

DK: But now you’re crammed up against the wall.

CT: Well, I’ll just have to deal with it, won’t I?

[pause]

CT: So.

DK: Yes?

[plastic sliding]

CT: _Why_ did you die on a fishing trip?

[pause]

DK: Okay.

DK: A few things before I start. 

DK: One. I will not be sharing any identifying information. No names, no locations, nothing that might be _traced_ , in any way.

DK: I…

[sighs]

DK: I realize I’m asking a lot. Maybe too much. It isn’t your fault. You weren’t there. You can’t have known. I don’t expect you to take everything I say without a grain of salt. That’s your way. That’s the way of people who live where...where the dead _don’t_ return, as a matter of fact. 

DK: But…

DK: Will you believe me? Insofar as you can?

[pause]

CT: ...I will.

DK: Alright.

DK: The second is that what you _do_ need to know is that there was a city…where no city should have been. 

DK: Is. It still exists, though...not as I knew it, when it was a living thing. It isn’t like that anymore.

DK: It was meant to be a paradise.

[scoffs]

DK: But it wasn’t. Are these things ever?

[pause]

DK: They did terrible things. Wonderful things. Things that boggle my mind still. Their Science...it was so far past what we’ve got today. But...behind, too. I don’t think they could’ve conceived of touching the moon. They were so high-minded, but..

DK: So, _so_ incapable of seeing any further than their noses.

[pause]

DK: My… _father_. And I...we were contracted to find a ship that had gone missing in its vicinity, though, of course we didn’t know _that_ at the time. I invited my best friend along, you know, from the war. We’d kept in touch, all those years.

DK: It was one last adventure, before we turned into our parents, right? 

DK: Well…

DK: His parents.

[pause]

DK: I was so stupid.

CT: You okay? We can take a break if you-

DK: No.

[intake of breath]

DK: And so we set out.

[pause]

CT: Was T_ with you?

DK: T_? Why would she be...oh, no. She wasn’t. She was _metaphorically_ steering the ship, see. Of the...problem.

CT: Ah.

DK: I met her much later. After she’d spent about as long as I’d been dead trying to fit the genie back in the bottle.

DK: I’m sorry, am I getting too metaphorical here?

CT: No...no, I _think_ I’ve got it. She set something in motion that she couldn’t stop. Something that turned out badly for you.

DK: Right. Yes.

[clears throat]

DK: I was separated from the group. It was my fault. I should’ve turned back, but…

DK: I don’t know. Would it have made a difference? Part of me thinks that the only thing that would’ve changed is that I wouldn’t be sitting here today. Of course we couldn’t have turned back, not after what I’d found. We couldn’t have even come _close_ to guessing what we were in for.

CT: What did you find? If...you don’t mind my asking. I-I don’t want to pry if you can’t say, but...

DK: No, it’s okay to ask. I’ll let you know if it’s something I can’t divulge. 

CT: So…

DK: It was a ship graveyard. 

DK: I never found the one we were looking for, but...there were so many of them, piled up in ways that couldn’t possibly be natural. I was documenting them when I found _it_. 

CT: It?

DK: The city. 

DK: They called me the first. To find them, down there. 

DK: But...I don’t think that’s accurate. 

DK: I was the first who wasn’t shot on sight. Even so, they would’ve shot me for any reason, see. After I’d arrived. 

DK: But I didn’t give them one. I protected myself. I turned myself into a problem they couldn’t solve by firing squad. I played the role until…

DK: Well, until I couldn’t.

CT: Your father never came looking for you?

DK: He did. 

DK: They all did.

[pause]

CT: I’m sorry.

DK: Hey, would it be alright if I...uh...I took you up on that break now?

CT: Of course.

[recording shuts off]

DK: I’ve never said it out loud before. What happened to them. To me.

CT: Not even to E_?

DK: God, no. She’s got enough on her plate without me piling it on. 

DK: But she might know some things. I’m not sure. We did share a brain for a few months, after all.

CT: I’m sorry, share a...a _brain_?

DK: Terrible and wonderful things.

DK: Do you remember when I told you about the foster parenting program? How it was _more_ than I was letting on? In a way I couldn’t quite find the words for?

CT: Right…

DK: I don’t think there is a word for explaining it. At least...not one that an outsider would understand. The closest one I can find is...we were chemically bonded. Two halves of the same organism. 

CT: That’s…

DK: Impossible?

CT: I was _going_ to say...hmmm...well...I don't really know _what_ I was going to say.

DK: A ‘Secure Attachment?’

[scoffs]

CT: Stop.

CT: It doesn’t sound healthy.

DK: No.

DK: When she was little, I could sense her moods. Even when she was far away. If I closed my eyes and didn’t think about it too hard about it, I could follow her wherever she went, by...I don’t know… _sixth sense_ , alone.

CT: Huh. Would’ve been useful for my kid. He was a runner.

DK: E_ too! It got her into _so much_ trouble. And...me.

DK: But that’s another story.

DK: Anyway...when she was older, she learned how to communicate. Across distances, that is. In...my mind.

CT: Telepathy, now.

DK: I said it was going to be a lot.

CT: Was there, by any chance, LSD involved?

[pause]

CT: I’m kidding.

CT: And I’m still listening.

DK: And then, at one point, she had to…

DK: Hmm.

DK: Make it… _worse_. Stronger. 

DK: We felt all the things that the other one felt. There...there wasn’t any barrier between us, our thoughts. I… _knew_ what it was like, being her. 

DK: It was horrible. And it lasted months. 

DK: Every so often she comes out with something about me that I _know_ I didn’t tell her. 

DK: God knows my brain was a mess back then, but still, I wonder. 

DK: Where was I? Before the break, I mean.

CT: Hmm…

[papers rustle]

CT: “Until I couldn’t” [sic] play the role.

DK: Right. 

DK: I wanted revenge.

DK: I could think of nothing else. _Do_ nothing else but prepare for it. I was going to make my exit and blow their whole goddamn cover. 

CT: But you didn’t.

[pause]

DK: No.

DK: It’s funny. I _still_ want to burn that place to the ground. 

DK: No, wait...that’s silly.

DK: I want...to tear it apart. Rip out each and every structural support with my bare hands and just… _shake it_ , until there’s nothing left standing. 

DK: But...it’s already happened. Every single person who would’ve given a damn is dead. Well, except T_. But you know about T_. 

DK: They did themselves in while I was on ice and didn’t leave me a damn thing. 

DK: God, I’m so angry. At nothing. At everything. I try not to show it to E_, but...sometimes I just _snap_. Say something too hastily, I mean. Let my irritation get the better of me. It’s awful for my blood pressure. And...her.

DK: I...I’m so tired of being angry. But...I don’t know how to stop.

[pause]

CT: You’ve got a lot to be angry about. 

DK: You _think_?

CT: You have a right to your feelings. You’re not a bad person for having them.

DK: I...I know.

CT: But...anger is often a cover for other emotions. Uncomfortable ones, that perhaps you don’t _want_ to feel. Anger is easier than sadness. Easier than fear, than grief.

CT: Now, don’t get me wrong. Anger has its uses. We evolved to be angry, didn’t we? Anger motivates change. Anger is a force for righting wrongs. But, tell me, if those wrongs are as right as they’re ever going to be, who comes out worse for stewing in the wrongness of it all, all the time?

DK: Me. 

CT: Right.

CT: Did you ever get a chance to mourn those you’d lost?

DK: There weren’t any bodies to bury.

DK: Or graves to visit. They were...I don’t know, more likely than not incinerated with the rest of the trash.

CT: Why don’t you change that?

DK: Go back in time? Look, they were capable of a lot of things, but...

CT: Have your own memorial service. Buy a brick in a remembrance garden. Make T_ donate a bench with their names on it to the park service. Say their names, every now and again. There’s a million little things you can do to remember them. You aren’t tied to where their bodies are. Why don’t you pick out one thing and tell me about it next week?

DK: Maybe.

CT: Hey, good enough for me.

CT: We left off at “But you didn’t [sic] get revenge.”

DK: Right.

DK: I was arrested. I...don’t care to remember that part.

CT: That’s okay.

DK: For now, at least. I spent time in prison and then...I was joined with E_.

CT: Okay?

DK: I’m going to ask you to stretch your incredulity again.

CT: I’m listening. I mean it.

DK: The thing is...I wasn’t human.

DK: Not when I was bonded to E_. 

DK: I...was a machine. Made for taking care of children. Look.

[rustle of fabric]

DK: This was my serial number...er...letter. They did that to us when it got too hard to tell us apart. When...one blob of flesh wasn’t much different from the next. I wasn’t the only one.

DK: That other survivor? That I keep _forgetting_ to write to? He was one too. There was one more of us that came to the sur- _back to the world_ , but…

DK: He didn’t make it. 

DK: You see?

CT: Yes. I can see it. 

DK: You’re not saying much.

CT: I’m just...processing. I’m sorry. I don’t mean anything by it. 

CT: I’ve never seen a case anything like you before.

[chuckles]

DK: You can say that again.

CT: I’ve never seen a - alright, I’m done. Same time next week?

DK: Sounds good to me.

CT: Don’t forget your x-rays.

DK: Oh, right.

[plastic rustling]

[recording shuts off]

**Session Notes:**

The patient departed in considerably higher spirits than he had the previous week. The anger problem is worrisome, but in his own words, he has no intention of causing harm. 

More worrisome is the tattooing a Greek letter on his hand in service to a delusion. It was a step that I had no expectation of and must admit, caught me off guard. The willingness to alter one’s body to be in accordance with the sickness of one’s mind is in no way something to be taken lightly. 

But I do believe that I regained a considerable amount of trust today, ethical considerations notwithstanding and that the advice I gave on the more practical matters was well received. 

The patient’s relationship with his daughter does not seem to be so simple as I had presumed and their upcoming separation may cause bigger problems than I suspected. This is a personal reminder to spend some time delving deeper into their relationship next week.


	5. Session 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moon feels.

**Transcript Property of Manhattan Psychiatric Center**   
**Session Date: August 6, 1970 10:31 AM**   
**Recording by Dr. C. Tompkins**   
**Names withheld for privacy.**

CT: Welcome back! C’mon in. How’ve you been?

DK: Eh.

CT: What’s that mean?

DK: It means ‘eh.’

DK: T_ dropped a gift and ran again.

CT: Ooh.

DK: It wasn’t anything so bad as a European Fan Palm, but...it still made me uncomfortable.

CT: You haven’t had a chat with her yet?

DK: She moves fast.

CT: But...I mean, I _presume_ you see more of her than her retreating back.

DK: Yeah. She comes by to check up on me. 

CT: So…?

DK: It’s hard...speaking up.

CT: Would it be easier if you wrote her a letter?

DK: Possibly. 

CT: You could edit it to your heart’s content. Say exactly what you mean to say.

DK: But would I ever _stop_ editing it?

CT: Heh. Can’t help you with that one. Say, speaking of letters, have you written that-

DK: No.

CT: I’m sure he’d like to hear from you. 

DK: It’s...unnerving.

CT: What’s the worst that could happen?

[pause]

DK: He...doesn’t answer me again.

CT: And what would _you_ do if the worst came to pass?

DK: I...well, I suppose I’d go on with my life. 

CT: See? The only thing that changes is he’s got a _chance_ to respond, rather than none at all. 

CT: It’s not a reflection on you if he chooses not to. 

DK: That does make me feel a little better.

CT: Far out.

[pause]

DK: What...is?

CT: What’s what?

DK: Far out. 

[pause]

CT: It’s a phrase. Um…’good job.’ Excellent.

DK: Oh.

DK: I feel old.

DK: Well, _sometimes_ I feel old. Other times it’s more like...I don’t know. A newborn foal staggering around in a big, cold world?

DK: I’m almost fifty. But I _know_ I don’t feel that. 

DK: Fifty year olds had to have _lived_ a little more, right?

CT: Everyone’s different. 

DK: I don’t even have grey hairs. 

CT: Lucky you.

DK: I don’t think I aged while I was dead. 

[pause]

DK: It’d be weirder if I did. 

[pause]

CT: I...suppose so.

[pause]

CT: I wanted to talk about E_ today. We talked a bit about her upbringing last week and as a child who was...well, _traumatically_ forced upon you initially, I was wondering...has that in any way affected your relationship?

DK: No. Next question.

[pause]

DK: Okay, it’s not quite as easy as all that. 

DK: I never wanted children. 

DK: No, that’s not it either. 

DK: I’m the last of my family line. Isn’t it my responsibility to keep it going? When I die - for _real_ \- that’s it. No more of us left. Nobody to remember us, to...to make new memories. Nothing. And it’ll be my fault. 

DK: But...I can’t. That’s not who I am. Or...what I wanted to do with my life. 

DK: So...I was stuck there. Between wanting and not wanting. 

DK: I wasn’t sure if I wanted E_. After we were separated, I mean. 

DK: It was hard. For a while just _seeing_ her...it brought me back to where I was, back then. I felt horrible about it. 

DK: She was so hurt.

DK: But...we worked it out. We made the decision to be our own people, to get to know each other on our own terms. 

DK: E_ answered the question. 

CT: What question?

DK: Will I or will I not carry on the family line? 

DK: Yes...but not by the rules I’d thought there were.

DK: I’m glad of it. 

CT: Aw. I’m glad too. 

DK: I won’t be like _her_.

CT: Her?

DK: My aunt. I’ll be _better_.

DK: I’ll let her know how much I care, this time. 

CT: Right on! You do that.

CT: What was next…

[papers rustling]

CT: Oh, the story. You stopped short of… _dying_ , last week. 

DK: Right. 

DK: It was an ambush.

DK: That prison E_’s mother was in? It was the same one I was sent to. 

DK: We so nearly crossed paths. I still think, sometimes, how different things would have been had I…

DK: Had things been different. 

[pause]

DK: Where was I going with this?

CT: An ambush?

DK: Yes. Some time after I was… _gone_ , E_’s mother...well, she took over the prison.

DK: Don’t ask me how. I don’t know, exactly, but...she had a way with words that makes you doubt every thought in your head. That makes it seem as though whatever she wanted you to do was your idea all along. 

DK: She had a cult, before she died. Honest to god.

DK: It was terrifying, the things they’d do for her... 

DK: The things she would have done for them.

DK: She wanted E_ back. Of _course_ she did. I...was the monster who was holding her child hostage. I understand that. Even...after _everything_ , I don’t begrudge her for _that_. 

DK: Had it not been me...had it not been for what came after…

DK: I would’ve called her a hero. The only person I’d ever met who took back one thing that goddamn place took from them. 

DK: Ugh.

DK: She’s still in my head. 

DK: I was… _there_ , with the body, but still...after all this time…

[pause]

CT: Break time?

DK: I’d like that.

[recording shuts off]

DK: I can forgive her for that. But _him_ …

CT: Him?

[pause]

DK: He was my friend. 

DK: An inmate who came from the prison with her. 

DK: And killed me. 

[pause]

DK: He couldn’t have known it was me. 

DK: Hell, I didn’t know it was me. 

DK: But…

DK: When I was first arrested, he saved me. More than once, he saved me, even as he was trying to save himself. 

DK: But I hurt him.

DK: And he hurt back. 

DK: I wish it had been anyone else.

DK: I...still don’t know how to feel about it. 

[pause]

CT: You don’t have to forgive to move on.

CT: It is what it is sometimes. You were good people in a bad situation, with - it sounds like - nothing but bad options. 

CT: Only you can figure out what that means today. 

CT: Take your time. Let yourself feel what you need to feel. Mourn what was lost.

CT: And know to do better next time. 

DK: I hear ya.

CT: So...E_ grew up in a cult? Is that right?

DK: Oh yeah.

DK: As its messiah. 

DK: But she didn’t want to be, hence the...resurrecting me. 

[pause]

CT: Are you _sure_ she’s not some kind of messiah?

DK: Heh. Well of course she’s _my_ little goddess, but...I wouldn’t be saying that aloud around her. 

DK: Her mother filled her head with ghosts. When we shared a brain...that was why it was so terrible. 

DK: But on the other hand, if you need her to sing a twenty year old jingle or quote outdated facts about a subject she’s never studied before, she’s got that down pat. 

DK: Hey, I’m not kidding. It was rough for her, joining the real world.

DK: She’d get so frustrated at all the things she didn’t know. The things the ghosts didn’t live to see. All the little annoyances she’d never had to deal with before. 

DK: Traffic. Sunburns. Face to face conversation. Being...outside.

DK: Her mother locked her up for...I don’t know how long. It makes me...so _upset_ , to think.

DK: She had her own therapist for a while there, after we were separated. 

CT: Good for her.

DK: That was why she was so keen to get me into _your_ office. 

CT: _Extra_ good for her. 

DK: Anyhow...when we got back into society, there were so many things she didn’t have. No birth certificate, no social security number, no records of her ever having gone to school. T_ helped with that, but for a while there, it was like she didn’t exist. She...didn’t know what to do with herself. I knew as much about helping her as I did myself.

DK: But...she set a goal for herself to _learn_. To read any and everything she could get her hands on. To walk to the store and back under the open sky without flinching. Whenever we go to Central Park, she ends up in a conversation with another busker. 

DK: I feel a bit left out when it’s in a language I don’t speak, but, well, as long as it’s making her happy. 

CT: She’s bilingual too?

DK: Oh, more than that. French, Hindi, Spanish, Mandarin, German...there’s probably more, but that’s what I’ve heard. I’m not sure _she_ knows what languages she knows until it comes up. Ghosts, see. They’re excellent translators. 

CT: Uh _huh_.

DK: Do you know how often her and T_ conspire in German right in front of my face? I really should get a leg up on that one myself…

[sighs]

DK: But it’ll have to be the old fashioned way.

CT: Right...

[pause]

DK: I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for her. 

DK: Me...I was in the world before, at least. I had experience with it...as it was when I...departed. But…

DK: I’m not sure if I’ve adjusted half so well as her.

CT: Oh?

DK: I don’t know what’s more difficult - having left the world to find it changed or…

DK: Never knowing it at all.

DK: I suppose I’m in no position to compare.

DK: But do y’know what _happened_ last summer, right after I moved in?

CT: What?

DK: Well, I had chest pains, for one. It wasn’t anything serious.

CT: Oh, that’s good.

DK: You’re telling me. But the hospital wanted to keep me around for observation, so I toughed it out. 

[pause]

DK: I hate hospitals. 

DK: I was trying to sleep my way through it when the aides woke me up in a frenzy. I didn’t know what was going on. 

DK: My first thought was “ _Did something else explode? Did someone else get shot?_ ”

DK: Isn’t it always one or the other? If it’s not a riot, that is. 

CT: You never know. It could be kittens.

DK: And _you’ve_ seen kittens on the news?

CT: I’m holding out hope.

DK: All the other patients were getting trundled off to the rec room. So...I followed. 

DK: It felt like half the hospital was crammed in there. All the patients on the floor who weren’t dead asleep and maybe half the staff. We were all clustered around the one TV. And…

DK: I saw Man walk on the Moon. 

CT: Ah.

DK: You have to understand, I had _just_ rejoined society. _Just_ come back to America. I...I-I didn’t know we were _capable_ of such things. 

DK: Everyone else around me was chatting and cheering or watching with rapt attention and a smile on their face, but I…

DK: All I had was this...pit of dreadful wonder in my stomach. I wanted to cry or laugh or scream, or _something_ , but...I didn’t. 

DK: I’d never felt so left behind. _Old_ , I guess. Though...that’s not quite the word.

DK: Did you know that some of the design considerations for spaceships aren’t so different from that of submersibles? 

DK: I’m not saying I would’ve worked on it, but...I wish I would’ve been there. 

DK: What am I supposed to _do_ with that?

CT: I can’t say I have a good answer for you.

DK: What’s T_ paying you for, then?

CT: A friendly listening ear?

CT: I digress.

CT: I don’t have a good answer for you, but what I can say is: me too, man. Me too. 

CT: There’s some crazy shit in the world and it’s not just you. It’s never just you. 

CT: See you next week?

DK: You got it.

[recording shuts off]

**Session Notes:**

I should be surprised by talk of cults, messiahs and jingle-singing ghosts, but I can’t seem to say that I am. By this point, with this patient, it feels par for the course. 

I can no longer reliably differentiate between fact and fiction with him. That his daughter was raised in a cult seems plausible. The ghosts, less so. But the line between them is blurry; where one ends and another begins, I lack the information to say. 

But he relates every detail with such earnestness and need that I can’t help but be drawn in, despite my academic detachment. He seems to respond much more readily when I assume that the problems he speaks of are legitimate and treat them accordingly. 

He left in high spirits today and I have every hope that he’ll continue to improve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By complete coincidence, he is actually the exact same age as Mark Meltzer.


End file.
